


Let Me Lead

by horsesforcourses



Category: The Favourite (2018)
Genre: F/F, Missing Scene, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 13:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsesforcourses/pseuds/horsesforcourses
Summary: It was unlike the Queen to be quite so assertive and even rarer still for Sarah to relinquish control but yet here they were in an impromptu reversal of roles...





	Let Me Lead

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t get that scene of Anne and Sarah sharing a heated kiss mere feet away from where the footman stood outside of Anne’s room. It was so bold and daring and the fact that it was the Queen who initiated it made all the more tantalizing so I wrote a continuation of what may have happened after the camera panned away.

Sarah gasped as her back collided with the wall, Anne pressing boldly, firmly up against her front as she razed her mouth with a passionate kiss. It was unlike the Queen to be quite so assertive and Sarah found herself panting uneven breaths into Anne’s mouth as her lips became progressively more swollen and wet from darting swipes of the Queen’s cheeky tongue and nips from her sharp teeth.

“Anne…”

The fingers curled around the back of Sarah’s neck tightened in response, gloved fingernails digging slightly into exposed, vulnerable flesh as Anne stole the rest of Sarah’s sentence away with another searing, fervent kiss. Sarah sank back against the wall, grateful for something solid to lean against as the Queen tore her mouth asunder with a kiss that bordered on brutal. It was unlike her to relinquish control so easily, to play the submissive, but there was something about the fire that burst bright and hot behind Anne’s normally docile eyes before she brazenly grasped the back of Sarah’s head to pull her in for a kiss, the footman by the door be damned, that caused Sarah to immediately surrender.

Surrender to the heat and passion that always burned between them, bright and bold and unequivocally dangerous.

“Anne…”

The Queen paused at the desperate utterance of her name, Sarah’s voice rendered so guttural and hoarse from her kiss that each letter was almost unintelligible to her ears. Still, she pulled back, but only slightly so that their lips still touched and they breathed the same pocket of air, their bosoms heaving in sync as they swelled and collapsed against each other behind the tight confines of their corsets.

“What?” One word wrapped in petulance, the question edging towards the beginnings of a sulk that the Queen was so known for throwing.

Sarah fought the urge to roll her eyes at the tone, wondering not for the first time how Anne could install within her, feelings of overwhelming passion one second and frustrating annoyance the next. Curbing her natural proclivity to retort back with a biting remark, she instead brushed a chaste kiss to crimson lips.

“Not here, Mrs. Morley,” Sarah whispered. Sharp eyes flickered sideways, calculating a dozen possibilities. Tension leeched slightly from her shoulders as she noted the gratefully empty doorway and she allowed herself to tentatively resume basking in the Queen’s sudden affection.

Anne impatiently followed Sarah’s gaze to the empty doorway, and as if suddenly realizing the precarious situation she had put herself and Sarah in, the passionate ardor that spurred her to press Sarah up against a wall mere feet from where a footman stood sentinel took a swift and sudden flight, and she stumbled backwards, her cane tapping an uneven staccato against the hardwood floor as she sought to put some distance between her and Lady Marlborough.

Sarah reached out in response and steadied her, warm, sure hands sliding down Anne’s arms in manner meant to soothe and reassure. “It’s alright,” she said quietly. Chancing another glance at the doorway, she pulled Anne gently back towards her and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of a suddenly tense mouth. “Let’s go to bed, love.”

“Now?” A panicked rush of air escaped the Queen as she made note of the sunlight still spilling in through the windows and the footman at the door, the _gaping open door_. Courage bade her a hasty farewell leaving Anne to stammer out a feeble, “Mrs. Freeman, I don’t think…”

Sarah immediately shook her head, effectively silencing Anne. “It’s alright,” she repeated softly. “I will manage it.” Gently squeezing the Queen’s forearm, she then released her and slipped past Anne to march confidently up to the footman who thankfully stood unaware.

“The Queen is not to be disturbed for the remainder of the day,” she snapped brusquely to the young footman who conceded her request with a demur murmur of, “Yes, Lady Marlborough”. He waited until Sarah retreated back into the room before turning to pull the door close, shutting the Queen and her favourite from the rest of the world.

Alone and safe from prying eyes, Sarah retraced her steps back to where Anne still stood, lips puckered and damp, eyes wild with anxiety but still smudged with traces of lust, her frame trembling slightly from a heady combination of their brief encounter and fear of being caught.

Sarah held out a gloved hand. “Come to bed,” she repeated quietly, slyly, relaying her request with a coquettish tilt of her head and a knowing smirk painted across her lips.

Anne swallowed, as Sarah, hand still outstretched, half circled around her, each step deliberate, measured, not unlike a spider expertly weaving its silk around an unsuspecting prey. Another tremor careened through her veins when Sarah stopped so that her back was to the opulent bed, eyebrow raised in question as she silently waited for the Queen to speak, to act, to succumb. 

Lust and need battled with fear and propriety but the latter two fell to a lost cause as Anne felt, acutely, the burn of Sarah’s want blazing from those dark tempestuous eyes; eyes that dared her to come forth, to take the hand that would lead them to sinful pleasures.

Victory ignited and spread over the pale features of Sarah’s face as Anne took a timid, tentative step forward but it was short-lived as a sudden shadow of defiance crossed the Queen’s face; and before Sarah could process the look, she found herself upended and the tables turned as Anne, who had apparently called back the residual tendrils of her waning courage, took the proffered hand and used it to pull Sarah back towards her, relying on the element of surprise to bolster her strength as she pulled then pushed Sarah back up against the wall.

“Why, Mrs. Morley!” Sarah managed to gasp before a hot mouth covered her own and a demanding kiss was branded onto her lips.

“I’m invoking my right to lead,” Anne husked against Sarah’s mouth. She delighted in the way Sarah trembled against her, chest heaving as she struggled to draw breath, eyes blown with want and need. She pressed a deliciously dirty kiss onto Sarah's pouting mouth, crowded it with lashes of tongue, and watched with supreme satisfaction as Sarah's eyes rolled to the back of her head, teeth clamping down on her bottom lip as she suppressed a wanton groan. “As your _companion_ ,” she added teasingly, breathing the words over Sarah's face. “As your _lover_.” Another sweltering kiss, this one punctuated by teeth nipping and tugging at Sarah’s bottom lip. She shivered when Sarah's gloved hands gripped at her hips, pulling her impossibly closer. “As your _Queen_.” She sealed her statement with a decisive swipe of her tongue, robbing Sarah of any last coherent thought.

Ballasted between the unyielding wall and Anne’s soft curves, Sarah shed the cloaks of Lady Marlborough and melted into her lover’s touch, lips dancing against Anne’s to a rhythm they’d both long perfected.

When Sarah felt Anne bend slightly to bunch up the copious material that made up her skirts, she threw her head back and relinquished the last remnants of her control, content, for now, to allow Anne to lead.


End file.
